


The Difficult Part

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Innocence, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Permission, Secret Relationship, Sexting, Virginity, in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 13:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Jon and Damian try not to get caught sexting. After all, they're only supposed to be good friends, nottogether.





	The Difficult Part

**Author's Note:**

> For #JonDamiWeek Day 2 - Secret Relationship (2/4)  
> Beta: kate1zena

_I wish I could touch you._

Damian stared down at the text as it lit up his burner phone. His head tipped back against the wall and he closed his eyes, biting his lower lip, forcing his breathing to remain controlled.

He shivered as little as he could and ignored his phone for the time being, going back to typing up the five page essay on a topic he'd covered when he was five and still under his mother's care. Usually, he hated that schoolwork was entirely beneath him, though today he was thankful it was so far beneath him that he didn't even have to concentrate to squeak out five pages. 

He flexed his toes, listened to the joints crack, and hid the little strain of his hips beneath the sound, resisted the urge to reach down and palm his growing erection. He _knew_ what was going to happen, what always did when he got these little texts from Jon.

This was the difficult part.

Swallowing, he reached for his water bottle right after as a reason for why he'd done it, gulping some down. He always became hyperaware of his responses and how things had to look when he and Jon texted one another on their burner phones. To some degree, Damian was certain Clark knew about Jon's phone, and though Damian had written a program for the phone that had required more than the four-digit pass code it had come with, he thought perhaps that kept Clark out of their business even if he did know about it. After all, this was the only way they could be together for the time being, as much as it pained Damian that it had to be like this.

Jon was terrified of either of his parents finding out he was gay – something Damian half understood and remained half perplexed by given who Jon's parents were – and yet Damian hadn't exactly outed himself to his family, either. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he was going to ever officially do it. He wasn't a fan of making a big deal out of items he regarded as emotional in nature, especially with as much of a fool as he'd been earlier in his youth, letting emotions rule him. Beyond that, while he knew he'd have the support of at least Alfred and Dick, he couldn’t exactly be certain of his father's feelings on it. He was fairly certain Tim wasn't as straight as he led on, he also had no actual proof he wasn't, which made him an unknown factor. It was _messy_ and Damian didn't like messy. He figured they would find out when and _if_ he brought Jon home one day as more than _just_ his friend.

Not that they were just friends any longer. It was more they were friends... that were _more_. Friends with feelings that went beyond friendly. Friends that, well, masturbated while pretending they weren't and stole kisses while on missions, and pretended to be only "besties" – as Jon had put it – around their parents. 

Damian picked up his phone, turned it back on and re-read the message. He typed his own and hit send.

_Kissing you would be a great pleasure._

He went back to typing his essay and generally concentrating on it as little as possible. 

He thought of all the dreams he'd had about Jon, all the times he'd lain in bed alone in the dead of the night, hand frantic over his own flesh, longing to moan Jon's name so he could hear him. Damian pressed his tongue out between his teeth and closed his eyes, typing faster because all he really wanted was to take his cock out, call Jon and listen to him get excited: one thing they couldn't do.

He shivered again, this one threatening to grow, to wrack him completely. His hips arched of their own accord and he narrowly caught his laptop from tumbling down toward his ankles. His cock flexed in his pants and he stopped typing to clench his fists and force himself to keep his heartbeat regulated, his breathing within normal parameters. He sat, his entire back rigid, all of him screaming for him to give in and _do something_ until a full two minutes had passed and his phone vibrated again. 

Reaching down, he plucked it up and read the new message.

_Imagining it. It'd be so hot, just like you. I'm thinking of you like I saw you that one day a few months ago._

Damian remembered that day. He recalled Jon walking in on him having just gotten out of the showers in the cave. Jon had been mid-sentence before he'd stumbled to a stop and they'd both simply stared at one another in complete shock, Damian's skin growing hot under the scrutiny. By the time Jon had left, Damian had seen the tent he'd pitched in his jeans. He'd be lying if he tried to state he hadn't masturbated to that image nearly every day since then.

Damian flexed his toes and replied quicker than he probably should have, unable to control himself enough to keep waiting. 

_Sometimes I wish the situation had been reversed, though I also enjoyed the way it happened._

It was barely a second later when he received: _D, I need to finish. Urgent. Please._

Damian pursed his lips to hide a small smile. It kind of got him off that Jon seemed intent to ask for _his_ permission to cum. It made him wonder what all he'd been hearing over the years and just how he'd figured out he wanted to be told.

He waited long enough to satisfy the little part of himself that liked the idea of Jon desperate and panting and _needing_ and then sent his reply.

_You may._

He sat back and closed his eyes, trying to imagine it happening. He conjured up the idea of Jon's satisfied little cry, of his body going rigid and then arching uncontrollably as he came all over himself. Damian liked to imagine it spurted like one of the videos he'd inadvertently seen in Grayson's DVD player of a man being teased by a woman until he gave her his load. His own never spurted quite like that. He figured it was a trick of pornography, but he also wanted to just imagine it that way until he knew the truth. 

He carefully regulated his breathing, resisted the urge to arch his hips, to give in and take his cock out and stroke, to cum as close to when Jon did as possible. He could never ever give them away like that. The only solution was to wait. He was the older one, the one with more experience touching himself under his belt. He was the one who had to wait, not precious Jon.

His phone vibrated and Damian glanced down at it. 

_I adore you. I wish... a lot of things._

Damian thumbed out his reply and closed the phone, tossing it aside and settling in to finish his essay before he could cum. 

_The feeling is mutual. I, too, wish a great many things._

Damian drew out the essay into around half an hour before he flopped back on the bed and wrenched his pants open, pulling his cock free and shoving one hand over his own mouth, stroking frantically. His hips arched and he had to keep enough focus to try to regulate his heartbeat and his breathing. He knew he was failing on breathing and his heart rate probably seemed sort of like he was doing light exercise. He still got so excited when he went to get off after Jon had that it was difficult to regulate it into absolutely nothing the way he knew he should be.

Desperation burned in his veins in a way it hadn't since they'd started sneaking around. He wanted to let go, wanted to let Jon _really_ hear him. He wanted so many things. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hand tighter over his mouth, hand going after himself as quickly as he dared. His entire body was tense, trembling beneath the surface, ready to explode. His back arched and he cried out behind his hand, warm cum sliding down over his hand as he kept stroking right on through his orgasm, his hips jerking roughly. 

His toes curled in the bed and he _knew_ if he pushed it further, he could cum again. Right behind the first. It felt like _bliss_ and he was certain of it. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t, because he knew from the few other times he'd let himself that he was _loud_ the second time. Loud enough he'd earned himself a concerned knock on his door the first time he'd done it and the abject humiliation of his father knowing he'd been spanking it.

He let go of himself and flung his hands out, his head arching back, shivering, his cock straining with _need_. His hands curled in his comforter and he squeezed his eyes shut, carefully starting to count various multiplication tables in his head, trying to calm himself with the boredom of it. 

Eventually, he eased back on the bed and managed to unfist his hands from his blankets, wincing at the wet spot from his own hand. He rolled off the bed and snatched up some tissues to clean up, sighing as he tossed them in the trashcan and carefully eased back down on his bed to fasten his pants back up, careful to tuck himself properly into his pants so as to not disturb the fact that his body was clearly not satisfied yet. 

He settled back in and began a quick edit of his paper, telling himself it would be okay and one day he and Jon could do what they wanted, when they wanted. It would only take time.


End file.
